Severus Snape and the Anonymous Birthday Present
by Morbidmuch
Summary: In which Snape recieves an anonymous birthday present.


A/N: Happy 60th birthday to our favourite Potions Master!

* * *

Despite a lifetime of late nights and early rises, Severus was not a morning person. The work ethic his wretched father had installed in him meant he was often up before six, at least on those mornings he'd managed to get any sleep at all. There was only one day of the year where he allowed himself a proper lie-in, cancelling any morning classes he might have and generally not showing his face until at least lunch. And on this particular Sunday morning in early January, this had been his plan. At least it had been until Poppy flooed him at the crack ass of dawn requesting his assistance. He spent the next several hours trying to undo the spell damage Miss Wilson had managed to inflict on herself (there was nothing wrong with her nose in the first place), and by the time he returned to his quarters his good mood was gone.

Scrubbing his hand over his face, he sighed.

Was it too much to ask to have one, just _one_, day in which there were no emergencies and he could spend it how he wished? Truth be told, he hadn't celebrated his birthday in nearly 30 years, so he didn't even knew why he cared. Albus, when he was alive, would always mark the occasion by gifting him a pair of outrageously garish socks (that last year they had been chartreuse with cauldrons emitting steam when worn) with Severus always accepted and then promptly shoved in the bottom drawer of his dresser. None of the sixteen pairs of socks were ever worn. Other than the Headmaster's buoyant gift, there was no fuss made over the day he arrived naked and screaming into this world and during his year as Headmaster, he had forgotten about the day altogether.

Was it too early for a drink? He cast a wordless Tempus charm. The numbers, proclaiming it to be just little past 11 am, seemed to mock him. _Sod it._ Another wordless charm and a bottle of Ogden's and a glass flew off the shelf and landed on the coffee table just as he sunk down in his favourute armchair. Filling his glass with one (okay, it was closer to two) finger of the amber liquid, he sat back. He cradled the glass and tipped his head towards the ceiling, eyes closing. He rarely allowed himself to be maudlin, but this special day seemed to bring it out of him more easily nowadays. Perhaps it was the notion of being gifted a second life, a second chance only to find little had changed over the past seven years. Sure, he wasn't being controlled by two lunatics, didn't have a constant migraine and an ulcer that wouldn't heal because he rarely slept and his caffeine intake greatly surpassed the food he managed to get down, but he was still unliked by the general population (the daft notions of him being some sort of herohad worn off quickly), taught Potions to complete dunderheads who seemed to find new ways to get themselves blown up with each class, and had few friends worth mentioning. Not quite the glamorous life that was advertised to him when he woke up at St. Mungo's with his throat torn out.

Severus barely flinched when a box appeared on the table in front of him. Setting his glass down, he leaned over the box with a frown. It was fairly big and wrapped in plain brown paper. There was no label or writing on it. Extracting his wand, he cast a simple _Revelio. _When nothing happened, he tried various other spells (some of his own invention) but found the package was completely harmless. From a magical viewpoint, at least. Opening it warily, he found to his surprise inside was a book. And not just any book, but a rare volume on dark curses which would greatly aid his research on nerve damage caused by the Cruciatus curse. On top of the cover lay a note, which he picked up carefully.

_Happy Birthday, Severus, _it read in the standard font of a Dicta Quill.

Severus frowned. Who would send him such a gift, and anonymously? His first guess would have been Minerva, though she would have been more Gryffindor about the gift-giving and simply handed it to him in person. Combined with the fact that she'd never once bought him a birthday present before made her an unlikely suspect. There was always the off chance this was all a prank set in order to humiliate him. It wouldn't be the first time. Then again, the tome wasn't cheap and he doubted someone would spend that amount of galleons on a prank, even if it was for him.

Resigning himself to not knowing for now, which he hated, Severus swept back his drink and made his way to the Great Hall for lunch. Thankfully he encountered no students between his quarters and the Great Hall, but once he sat down at his usual seat at the head table his mind was again taken up with who sent him that blasted gift. He eyed his colleagues as he started eating, looking for any sign that would betray the identity of the gift-giver. Some he could rule out simply because he didn't know them well enough for them to know it was his birthday, others because he knew they didn't care.

There had been quite a turnover among the staff this year, which was surprising since the staff had practically remained unchanged since he began teaching (not counting the yearly Defence teacher). The new teachers were, to his chagrin, all former students of his. Pomona had finally retired, and Neville Longbottom now occupied the role of Herbology professor. To his even greater chagrin, Longbottom had decided sometime in the years since the Dark Lord's downfall to grow a pair and was no longer intimidated by the mere presence of him. Defence Against the Dark Arts was now taught by the eldest Weasley, William, who at least was less of a dunderhead than his siblings and actually a competent teacher. With the curse gone, there was a chance he'd actually make it more than one year, which seemed promising.

The last of the new hires was perhaps the most interesting one. Hermione Granger sat a few seats down on his right, seemingly very interested in the plate in front of her. He hadn't been surprised when it was announced she would take over for Vector; she'd done her Arithmancy apprenticeship with the Professor a few years previously and talks had been even then about how much she enjoyed teaching. Not that Severus cared (nope, not one bit). Like Longbottom, she had a new attitude, which he found strangely appealing. Unlike Longbottom though, she had the annoying habit of calling him by his first name. The first time it happened, he was so taken by surprise he was actually speechless. This had made her smile, and before he could stop himself he'd been thinking what a nice smile it was. She tended to do that a lot, smile at him. The seat next to his in the staff room had become unofficially hers, and he became rather irritated if someone else had the nerve to sit there. Though he'd never admit it, he enjoyed her company.

She wasn't smiling now, though. Rather, she looked fairly nervous. Severus' eyes narrowed. Was she behind the gift? As if he'd spoken aloud, her head snapped up and her eyes met his. Without a moment's hesitation he delved into her mind, only to find himself in front of a sleek, steel wall. He tested her shields lightly and found to his dismay that they were solid. With a not so gentle push, she shoved him out. Returning to the Great Hall, he barely had time to see her eyes flash in anger before she stood and practically fled the hall.

"Severus, I wish to go over the funding for the next quarter with you this afternoon," Minerva said, "we've been putting it off far too long."

Tearing his eyes from Granger's retreating form, he nodded. "Of course."

–

He didn't get a chance to speak with Granger until much later; the meeting with Minerva ran long and she didn't show up at the Great Hall for dinner. After a few hours of reading his new book (which was brilliant), he stalked to her quarters on the third floor an hour before curfew with a purpose: to demand an answer for the book, and to ascertain her motives for giving it to him. He knocked briskly on her door, and felt her wards reach out and then settle. There was no answer. Severus frowned. Where could she be? She wasn't on patrol duty tonight, he knew that much. He knocked again and strained to hear any sounds of movement from within. Still nothing. Feeling oddly deflated, he pinched the bridge of his nose. Well, this wasn't part of the plan.

Footsteps echoed in the corridor, coming towards him. Granger looked surprised to see him (she had always been extremely poor at hiding her emotions, like most Gryffindors) and her knuckles clutched the book in her hand tighter as she approached.

She stopped a bit away from him, but still close enough so he could see the tightness in her jaw. "Can I help you, Professor?"

His eyebrow arched at the formality of her tone, which unnerved him more than he cared to admit. "I've a matter to discuss with you, Granger."

"Oh?"

Rolling his eyes, he sighed. "Are you going to invite me in or are we to have this discussion in the corridor?"

Eyeing him, she took out her wand and pointed it at the door. The wards melted away, and she brushed past him into her rooms. Following her, Severus shut the door and felt her wards come up behind them. As he looked around the room, he realised he'd never been in these particular rooms before. The sitting room they'd just entered was covered with built-in bookcases, which even enclosed the door on the left, which most likely lead to her bedroom. Not allowing his mind to stray in that direction, he refocussed. On the right-hand wall was a large fireplace which was surrounded by a comfortable looking couch and two armchairs. On the opposite wall from the door they'd entered was a large window with a large desk underneath it. There were several magical photographs on the desk, and he recognised the dark hair of Potter on more than one of them.

"What do you want?" Granger said, clearly fed up with his sudden mutism.

Shifting his gaze to her (had her eyes always been that intense?), he spoke. "I should like to acquire as to why you sent me the book."

"What do you mean why? It was a birthday gift. Normally, friends celebrate each others birthdays."

He scoffed. "Friends, is that what we are?"

A myriad of emotions flashed across her face before it finally settled on hurt. It did something he didn't want to think about to the pit of his stomach. "I thought we were. That is, until you tried to use Legilimency on me during lunch. What the bloody hell was that about?"

He was taken aback by her biting tone. "I wanted to know if you were responsible for the gift." The excuse sounded weak even to his ears.

"And you didn't think asking me was a good option?" Her voice was shrill in her anger, and her hair seemed to crackle with her magic. "If I have to tell you using Legilimency on someone without their consent is wrong, then you are not the man I thought you were."

His mouth opened, then closed again. She was right, of course. At once, he felt slightly nauseated. He had tried to enter her mind without her permission. Legilimency was often likened to raping the mind. Sweet Merlin, how could he have been so stupid?

Clenching his fists to hide his hands were shaking, he looked to the floor. He couldn't bear to meet her eyes, see the anger and betrayal in her face. This was Lily all over again; him doing something stupid, which cost him the regard of a brilliant woman. He had no excuses then, and he could offer none now. "I apologise, sincerely. I will not ask forgiveness, because I don't deserve it."

"Severus, look at me."

Hesitantly, he obliged. She was biting her lip, and her eyes were slightly glassy. She blinked twice and then spoke. "I forgive you. It was a bloody stupid thing to do, and if you do it again I'll turn you into a dungbeetle."

"You forgive me?" The words felt foreign in his mouth.

Granger smiled. "I do. It's what friends do, forgive each other when they do something foolish."

His vision narrowed. This was too much. Not only had she bought him a bloody birthday present, she thought him a friend, and forgave him for a heinous act which should not have been forgiven. His chest tightened. He needed to leave, to flee back to his dungeon where there was no Hermione Granger with her soft smile and pink lips and-

"What's wrong?" She took a step forward.

He backed up. "Nothing." He turned to leave, only to find she'd warded the door. "Lower your wards."

"No."

Turning, he fixed her with a glare that would have made a first-year cry (and had done, on more than one occasion)."You realise I can break down your wards faster than you can say 'Dumbledore's sweaty pants'?"

She wrinkled her nose. "If you truly want to leave, I won't stop you. But something happened made you freak out. Was it that I called us friends. Do you not want to be my friend?" At his glower, she had the audacity to smile. "I've faced much worse things than you, Severus Snape, so don't think you can intimidate me."

Raising his eyes to the ceiling, he sighed. "Gryffindors," he muttered. He stalked over to the couch, where he sat, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. "I am not accustomed," he spoke slowly to his hands, "to having friends. I am sorely out of practice on how to be one, as you may well be aware." Sitting up straight, he looked at her. "I shall endeavour to do better in that regard, should your offer for friendship still be on the table."

Granger smiled again, wide and toothy. It unnerved him "Of course it is."

"Stop smiling at me," he glowered.

Her smile didn't falter. "Nope. You are my friend, and I am allowed to smile at you if I want."

His stomach nearly fell out when she joined him on the couch. Not sitting so close that their legs touched, but close enough so he could smell her perfume and see the darkness of her lashes against her skin.

"Did you like the book?" she asked, about as subtle as a Hippogriff in a tutu.

The corners of his mouth twitched. "I did, very much. It was a most thoughtful gift, Hermione."

It was the first time he'd used her name, and by her reaction you'd think she'd won a million galleons. Strange woman. Was it just him, or did her shifting bring her a bit closer on the couch?

Her eyes glittered in the firelight. "That makes me happy to hear. I didn't want to give you something frivolous and useless. Even if it won't help with your research, I'm sure it's a fascinating read. And one can never have too many books."

His mind wandering to the sixteen pairs of blinking, smoking or singing pairs of socks in his dresser made him chuckle. "One certainly cannot."

"I just realised," she said, "that I haven't properly congratulated you. That just won't do." Without warning, she placed her hand on his sleeve and pressed her lips to his cheek. They were warm against his skin, and her breath came out in little huffs that sent shivers down his spine. "Happy birthday, Severus. I'm very glad that you are in my life." Her smile and eyes both held something he couldn't quite place, but that made him warm all over.

Though he couldn't quite find the words or the courage to say so, it was in truth the best birthday he'd ever had.

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